


Ignite My Fire, Object Of My Desire

by ThalassicThedes (50niftiesus)



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: A Story Of No Consequence, Alternate Universe - College/University, Crossdressing, F/M, M/M, Melodrama, Seriously Serious Actor Kaner, Theatre, fraternity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-07
Updated: 2018-01-07
Packaged: 2019-03-01 10:10:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13292625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/50niftiesus/pseuds/ThalassicThedes
Summary: A good ol' fashioned College Au in which the college itself is hardly even mentioned. Just... make of this what you will.





	Ignite My Fire, Object Of My Desire

**Author's Note:**

> Ahem. 
> 
> The title is from a Shakespeare play. This was a poor group effort after someone suggested another American Dad related prompt. We had originally meant to submit this in a fic fest but we punked out sooo, ... Enjoy! Hope you like it.
> 
> Oh! And pay no mind to the melodramatic play that this story is centered around, that made-up romance was meant to sound as ridiculous as it is. 
> 
> Not only were Stephawn and Karl on hand to help but so was Potts, the theater major.  
> There are some Helen Mirren acting quotes in here.
> 
> Comment or something.

 

 

_He was cold, so cold. There are screams and cries of grief all around him. Most of his body submerged in the icy water had nearly lost all feeling. His heart still beats. Soon it will be of no use to him. His time will be upon him. Yet the sweet bloom in his chest that set his heart aflutter, that shocked warmth to his core was, even now, ever present. For she was here. She will still live, and she will survive. His Rose. A trembling vision laying atop a floating furnishing. These their final moments, he tells his love she must go on through chattering teeth._

_Jack, Jack, she says._

“Listen, Rose, you're gonna go on and make lots of babies, and you're gonna watch them grow.”

_No Jack, no._

“Promise me you'll survive. Never let go.”

_I'll never let go._

_He gently caresses her cheek before pressing his cold lips against hers for a parting kiss, he sinks away._

 

And scene.

  
“Very nice audition. Thank you.”

Patrick stood from where he was laying on the floor, clinging to a manikin in a kitty pool. He was auditioning for the leading role in an upcoming production headed by his theatre professor. 

“No, thank you, Professor Valdez, for writing a play as brave as Hidden Fires. A lowly woodcarver whose only seller are jewelry chests and who pretends to be as empty as the boxes he makes until he meets a vivacious candle maker named Esmeralda. He ignites her flame, and she is the jewel, the precious object he locks away in his own chest. This is compelling stuff, I tell ya.”

He was desperate for the part, the play was shit. But Patrick was gonna kiss ass every chance he got.

 

Should he land this role, Patrick would finally be taken seriously as an actor. He was not the superficial pretty boy looking to get a ticket to Hollywood that everyone at the drama department made him out to be. He’s done extra work before, he’s been on a movie set. And while being in the background was easy money, the whole experience was more than a little unsettling. Especially when you were dressed in shredded rags that cling off your body and some fat, greasy, old man in a tacky suit creeps up behind you and says, “I bet all the boys can’t wait until you turn eighteen,” when all you wanted was to grab a sandwich from the snack table. He didn’t inform the man that he was already eighteen but he did walk away with a handful of donuts.

Luckily, not all his experiences on a set were as disagreeable. He landed roles in two commercials; one for a generic toothpaste brand and the second, he played the son of a man who suffered from rheumatoid arthritis and couldn't play catch with him like he used to, that was of course until his father's doctor had recommended he try Humira.

But those were all side hustles for some much-needed finances. The royalty checks from the commercials keep him from asking his parents for money or, God forbid, taking out a student loan in this economy. Pat’s done just about every odd job on campus be it nude modeling for sketch classes, actual clothing modeling for some design class, feeding the lab rats for a bioengineering class, and helping the broadcast crew during school hockey games.

Patrick's true love was in live theatre. There's nothing like it and the immediate connection to the audience.

He remembers the first time he saw a live drama, his mother took him to an amateur production of Hamlet. The experience was cataclysmic: A darkened space with a group of people, and they are transformed by it. On film, the audience does not exist and your actions are muted to forcefully create the intimacy that comes naturally when you're physically on stage. Patrick prefers the instant feedback. Everyone in his life disapproves of his career choice, constantly lecturing him over his wasted potential, and he understands their objections. That is why he works tirelessly to perfect his craft. Patrick was determined to be the best and rest everyone's worries, he wasn't satisfied until he was taking his mom as a date to the Tony awards. He wants his audience to just live in that present moment where he's on stage, fully embodying his character. Make them experience what his character experiences.

He prays for no more of the supporting roles as the sidekick. Or even worse, the one-line waiters and shopkeepers that always manage some variation of, “Another day, another dollar!”

Patrick Kane will not be typecasted.

 

Hidden Fires was the Committee on Theater and Performances’ biggest show of the year and essentially, Pat's big break. An opportunity to put his name on the radar, build up his portfolio, and land an agent who'd get him in more major productions, someone like Pat Brisson. He had changed his approach towards auditioning recently and hopes it's paid off, though he's more than confident he’s nailed this one.

“Thank you,” Professor Valdez, who wrote and will also be directing the play, dismissed him.

“Thank you,” Patrick thanked again before heading off the stage.

“Who's next?”

Patrick jogged back out, “You have my headshot, correct?”

“Uh, yes.”

“Excellent. Forgot my prop,” he dragged his Rose in her kitty pool backstage.

Oh yeah, he pulled out all the stops. This gig was in the bag.

 

~

 

If Patrick was so talented, so diligent, and so boyishly handsome, why was he not already taken seriously?

He was a member of Theta Chi. One of the lowest fraternity chapters in the nation. He thinks it's a reflection of their leadership. The house wasn’t really established within the community but the boys took him in when he was so directionless and scared, being far from home for the first time. It was Sharpy who had recruited him after Pat assisted in one of the school’s hockey broadcasts (He just held the mike up, really), but his fraternity’s president flat out denied his initiation at first. “Look at him Jonny. He’s so cute, like a stray puppy. He needs a home,” Sharpy somehow got the house to overrule their jerkface leader and take Pat in. When he thanked him, Sharpy waved him off claiming some sacred duty Patricks held to each other.

He never intended to dislike Jonathan, but honestly, the asshole never gave him a chance, just one look and he was all judgment. He doesn't know what stick lodged up into his ass the day they met and normally he’d take the opportunity to study such a curious character, but he doesn't really care. Why waste his energy?

Patrick will be the first to admit it's kinda weird, a theatre geek winding up at a frat house full of jocks. It wasn't that he didn't play sports growing up, he was naturally good at anything he tried, it's just that sports never really stuck. However, he doesn't let this disinterest in general bro activities stop him from being the undisputed beer pong champion, a title he defends each Saturday during their mandatory weekly celebrations for getting through the week. He's a fierce competitor. And apparently so is Jonny. He found getting that guy frustrated until he was hoarse with rage oddly satisfying. Naturally, this weekly matchup developed into a bit of a rivalry that has bled into everyday petty competitions over the most ridiculously mundane things much to everyone's annoyance. They constantly clashed.

It takes quite an effort to get Patrick pissed off, but afterwards, once he’s imploded, he feels like he's let out all his frustrations and is at peace again. He's not sure it's as therapeutic for Jonathan though. In fact, he's not entirely sure what Jonny gets out of constantly dueling, perhaps it's dumb pride that keeps him coming back. He should stop accepting, for Jon’s sake, but Patrick never backs down from a challenge.

 

Jonny and the boys were sitting at the kitchen table scarfing down some pizza for dinner.  He was in the middle of recounting, what Jon thought, was a rather humorous story.

“Then Dan said we were out of chips, so I went into the pantry, and guess what I found behind the Cocoa Puffs?”

Pat bursts into the kitchen, “Hey guys, I just had my big audition, and I think I crushed it!”

Saader was the first to congratulate, “Good for you!”

Then Sharpy, “That's great!”

And then Seabs, “Congrats Kaner!”

Before Duncs or anyone else could congratulate him, Jon interrupted, “Hey, I was in the middle of a story!”

Sharpy looked at him unimpressed, “You found the potato chips. Terrible story. Continue Peeks.” He leaned in on his elbows, resting his chin in his palms to fully engage himself in whatever Patrick was saying. None of the guys chirp Patrick for his passion in life, not as much as when he'd first arrived, but Sharpy was always fully supportive and for that, he’s eternally grateful.

Patrick was simply too ecstatic to notice Jon’s menacing glare, “The director liked me so much, I got a callback for the lead. It's the role of a lifetime. Much bigger than my gig for that live radio broadcast of I Remember Mama. Only people who listen to the school’s station were able to hear it. I mean, who even listens to that?”  
  
While everyone else listened intently, Jonny didn't care, “Yeah. So I guess the last slice goes to me -”

Patrick scoffed, “I just got here. I'm starving! What the fuck makes you think you deserve the last slice anyway?”

Everyone groaned in unison.

“Um, everything? I'm smarter than you, I'm stronger than you, I play video games better than you-”  
  
“Sorry, Jonathan. I can do literally anything better than you.”

“- And I’m the president.” He stood in his chair as if to emphasize their size difference when he finally seemed to catch up to what Patrick had said, “What!? No, you can't!”

Patrick raised his brows, “Yes, I damn well can.”

“The fuck you can! Try-”

Saad disrupted any challenging, “Enough! Can't we have one meal without you two getting into a yelling contest?! Why is everything a competition?”

Sharpy, “Yeah, you guys should just fuck and get it over with.”

Everyone looked towards Sharpy.

He further elaborated, “What? Clearly, they have repressed sexual feelings for each other that they're channeling into hostility.”

“How's that Psych 101 class going?” Asked Seabs.

Sharp replied with cool understanding, “It's only day three, but I understand how the whole world works now.”

The two subjects of conversation remained oblivious, “Patrick, you can’t even act. I bet even I can get into Professor V’s dumb play. They let you in with your lisp. And you don’t even know what good acting looks like. You thought the Twilight performances were riveting!”

“Shut up!” Pat was very insecure about his lisp and his attachment towards the Twilight series was purely sentimental. “They did the best they could with that script. Don’t you put this on those poor kids! Their careers were nearly ruined and now they must work for legitimacy in an industry that doesn't take them seriously!”

“Whatever, you enjoy your little school play. Tonight I’ll be at the movies watching real actors while I get blown by Sarah from Humanities.”

Saad, “You finally landed that chick? Badass, Tazer.”

Jonny was totally smug and Patrick hated everything about his dumb face. Jon feeling as though he had won one over him was something that did not settle well with Patrick.

“I will. And you,” Pat turned to Saader the freshman recruit, “that's enough from you for the night! It's bedtime. Go to your room.”

Saader got up and solemnly headed out the kitchen.

Patrick stopped him, “Get back here.” Sadder came to him and Patrick embraced him for a tight hug, “You're a good boy. You just frustrate me.”

 

~

 

Patrick was studying his lines in the living room. Purely for memorization, he felt he knew his character enough.

“Have you ever seen the works of Veit Stoss, Miss Vela? There are small blotches of pigmentation when you look up close; he tried to cover his mistakes. Instead, he made blemishes, they're a lot like scars. Or like stains upon the soul.”

From his peripheral vision, he senses a dark looming presence lurking about the room.

It's his pest of a douchebag president.

“Oh, rehearsing for your little play audition? Well, I may have just landed a role in Hidden Fires too.”

That’s preposterous.

“What? No, you don’t. No, he doesn't. He's so lying,” the severity of Jon’s implications forced him to speak out loud.

“You know, Stanislavski says that acting is the grandest lie.”

The asshole casually stated before exiting the room. Like he knew who the fuck Stanislavski was. How the fuck did he know who Stanislavski was?  


~

  
Patrick was at the acting studio on campus where he selflessly shared his talents to those in need of some coaching. He volunteered often to help struggling actors reach a breakthrough or even offer them advice.

“And I asked him, ‘Mr. Antonioni, how do you direct your actors?’ And he said, ‘I don't. After each take, I simply ask them, how did that feel?’” Patrick shrugged, “Yeah, some people get it.” The few actors crowded around him nodded in agreement.

Sebastian, the head acting coach who even gave Patrick some occasional pointers, entered the room and called for everyone's attention, “Now, I'm afraid I have some bad news. I've got a callback next week for an untitled film, and since I'm going to get it, that means no class for a while.”

The whole class cried in protest, “Nooo!”

Sebastian nodded sympathetically, “Log that emotion, save it for a tragic scene.”

He shed his coat. “Okay, we still have this week. Let's get to work!”

Pat would be lying if he said he hadn't often thought of being with Sebastian. Especially after he told Patrick to call him “Bash” since, “we're practically partners, Pat.” He's a handsome fucker, a face chiseled by angels. Good height too, taller than him and that body… Patrick forced himself to remain professional for the sake of his reputation. He doesn't want to sleep with his superiors, though unfortunately, not everyone has that option.

Sebastian was assigning partners for today's activity.

“Peter and Bess, you'll be doing a scene from Hamlet. Jamie and Darryl, you'll do Our Town. And Patrick and Stacey… oh shit. Stacey?”

Everyone looked around for Stacey.

“And she’s not here. Good thing we got a newbie to the workshop!”

Newbie? How strange to receive a newcomer so late in the semester.

“Jon, hi! Get in here! Class this is Jonathan. He’s looking for some refinement before his big role.”

Of course, because this was Pat's life. There's Jonathan fucking Toews looking the picture of uncertainty standing at the door. His shy meekness almost made him endearing. Was he being serious right now?

“Now, Pat? Jonny? I'm giving you one of the most riveting scenes ever put to paper: War Games, act two, scene 19. David and Jennifer, Broderick and Sheedy are trying to flee Goose Island to prevent global thermonuclear war. But David's about to face his own personal war.”

He handed the boys their lines. And sat in his director's chair.

“Tic, tac, go.” 

Patrick took Jennifer’s role, “Maybe we can swim for it.”

You can hear Jonny’s forced urgency through his monotone voice, “No. No, I can't swim.”

Patrick, “You can't swim?”

Jonny with more of his stiff delivery, “No, I can't. Okay, Wonder Woman? I can't swim. I always thought there was going to be plenty of time. I wish I didn't know about any of this, and tomorrow it would just be over.”

“Somebody remind me to cancel my Ambien prescription,” Sebastian told one of his pupils. "Okay, Jon, we're going to run this scene all week until you make it perfect. The rest of you will get no attention from me, but there's no refunds, so your move.”

After a second run through.

“Glarphaugh!” Sebastian spat. “That was fake puke, because I couldn't summon up real puke to express my disgust with your acting.”

Jon was embarrassingly helpless. His iron will visibly deteriorating as his frustration grew, “I give up! I'll never learn how to act.”

Patrick, on the other hand, was enjoying himself. He smirked, “Maybe instead of ‘Can't swim,’ you should change the lines to, ‘Can't act.’”

Jon’s frown deepened.

Sebastian clapped his hands excitedly, startling the room, “Pat, that’s why you’re my star!”

Jonny looked even more aggravated at that. The jealous bastard. You'd think he'd be used to Pat being better than him.

“Jon, you need to make a personal connection with the character- and you have one. Just like David doesn't know how to swim, you don't know how to act. Pat, I want to try something with Jon.”

Sebastian got up and laid hands on both of them. Jon stiffened where Pat shivered and melted to the touch.

“Jon, we're going to do this again, but this time, I want you to exchange the word ‘swim’ with the word ‘act.’”

Jonny rolled his eyes, “Maybe we can swim for it.”

Sebastian squeezed his shoulder, “No, no.”

A quick thought flickered through Pat's mind as Jon fixed a glare at Sebastian; Sebastian and Jonny would look hot together. Shit, he feels his face heating up. How rudely inappropriate for his brain to be thinking these thoughts right now. He hadn’t fixated on whatever that just was meant, figuring that anyone with Sebastian would be hot.

“I. Can't. Act,” Jon said through gritted teeth.

Patrick, “You can't act?”

Jon looked him intensely in the eye, “No, I can't. Okay, Wonder Woman? I can't act. I always thought there was going to be plenty of time.” Something cracked in him like the dam that held all his pent-up emotions finally burst, “I wish I didn't know about any of this, and tomorrow it would just be over.”

Sebastian rejoiced, “Oh, Jonny! You can act. Oh, you've made such progress- such confusing progress! Okay, let's finish the scene.”

Jonny locked in place again and backed up, “Wait, we can't finish the scene- they kiss.”

Aw, he’s bashful.

Patrick, “So?”

Jonny grew red, either embarrassed or disgusted. “I'm not going to kiss you! You're you!”

Pat grinned, “Tazer, you can't be a great actor unless you _commit_.”

Jon looked at Patrick, then Sebastian, then the whole room. He hesitated before making up his mind, “Forget it, I'm not kissing you!”

He stormed out. Sebastian raised a brow questioningly to Patrick but he just shrugged. Lord knows what's going through that boy's concussed scrambled mind. He will applaud his melodramatics, though.

“Hey Bash, how about me and you finish the scene?” Pat grinned tongue in teeth.

Sebastian laughed delightedly, “If you insist, Patty.”

 

~

 

“!Atención! I have the cast list,” Professor Valdez announced to all in the theatre. The cast list, this was the moment of truth.

“Now, when they announce me as the lead, I want you to act totally surprised,” Pat said to his buddy, Jimmy, who worked as stage crew.

Professor Valdez began to read off the list, “Let's start with the male lead. A real sparkling talent…”

Patrick couldn't believe it was finally happening. He was so excited he thought he might actually throw up.

“For the role of Edmund Jones, our wood chest maker, Jonathan Toes!”

“Ugh, it’s pronounced ‘Tayves,’” Jon said from where he stood at the back of the crowd.

Patrick barely conjured a whisper through his lungs constricting, “What?”

He felt the color leave his face, his emotional high was gone. Patrick couldn't believe this was happening. He was so shockingly scandalized that there was absolutely no doubt he was actually going to vomit.  

Jonny made his way through the crowd, “I'd like to thank Professor Valdez for giving me a last-minute audition.”

He turned to Patrick, conceited as ever, “I'd also like to thank my workshop partner who unknowingly trained with me to steal this part right out from under him, making me the better actor.” He leaned in until his lips brushed against Pat’s ear, “I'll _always_ get the last slice.”

Jimmy gasped behind him, “The all is lost moment!”

All this time he thought Jon was just trying to get into his head. He underestimated the man by not noticing the signals he was flashing. He had ignored him as though he were a child telling some fantastical tale of space unicorns and flying pizza slices. It had all seemed so impossible.

Patrick was going to grind him to dust. He was no longer pale from shock but from fury.

Mr. Valdez laughed a bit too harshly for it to be genuine, and clapped Jon’s shoulder, “No need to thank me at all, Jonny. Just let Mrs. Bucknell know that her dear friend is in. Afterall, there would be no Hidden Fires without her generous donations.”

Mrs. Bucknell? Ah yes, Pat was dragged to a banquet by Prof. Valdez in order to charm her and other snobs into donating money to the theater department. Wasn't really much of a hardship, the food was good, and he ended up spending the night dancing with Mrs. Bucknell’s hot daughter, Sarah. She was about his age and also attended the university -

Patrick's mouth gaped involuntarily from disbelief, he shook his head. Jonny boy was starting to look obsessed.

Getting blown by Sarah from Humanities, indeed.

 

~

 

“I work wood, you work wax. My boxes may be empty when they’re purchased but in them? They possess the potential to hold something precious, something of infinite value to someone. You don't know what it's like to taste the salty lacquer of a bitter man's heart.”

Jon and Lucy were currently at center stage in a supposed restaurant. Lucy’s character was trying to break through Jon’s and get the stoic woodcarver to open up.

Lucy, “I know too well, Mr. Jones. Let’s talk shop. Wood chips are all the same, no? The same. A choking hazard somehow deemed safe for children. They can scrape our insides just as bad as our outsides.”

That was Pat’s cue, “Would the madam and sir like hear about our specials?”

Professor Valdez, “Cut! You don't have any lines. Stop improvising!”

“I need to be heard,” Pat pouted and pleaded his case. “I have people coming to see me. I'm crushing hard on one of them.” The professor's resolve looked to be dissipating only slightly. He continued, “Do you know what that's like, Prof. Valdez? You were young once, surely you were once victim to a one-sided infatuation? A love unrequited?”

Jon snorted, “He’s lying. Only his mom was coming.”

That dick.

“Fuck you, Jonny! Stop answering my Skype calls!”

 

~

 

Patrick had had it with Jonathan.

The arrogant douchebag invaded every aspect of his fucking life. There was no escaping him, not even on nights where he had a game since Patrick was stuck operating sound for the broadcasting crew and fact-checking their reports. The team wasn’t scheduled another road trip until next month. And if Jon’s lame ass wasn’t in class or on the ice, he was in the gym, coincidentally whenever Pat was. Then there’s the fact that they live with each other. He was an absolute irritant at the house. Instead of challenging Patrick for push-ups or basket shots into trash cans he was asking Pat to rehearse lines with him. He went as far as to try and argue for various philosophies pointing out flaws in Stella Adler’s approach claiming he favored Meisner’s technique. The fucking nerve of this bastard.

Patrick was enjoying a rare moment Jonny free. He and Sharpy went over to his girlfriend’s apartment that she shared with some roommates to hang and play Mario Kart. He liked Abby, she was a cool chick; studying to become a nurse. She had just left the two Patricks to pick-up a pizza, not willing to pay extra for delivery since she was stretching her monthly allowance as far as possible.

Sharpy was always a good listener so Patrick figured who better to vent to?

“I just - I don’t understand why he’s so insistent at upstaging me? The mini competitions were fun, but this, this is my fucking career he’s messing with. And he’s actually like, working hard which is… unnerving? Not to quote Regina George, but why is he so obsessed with me?”

Sharpy stared evenly at the screen, successfully maneuvering into first place. “I don’t know Peeks, couldn’t you believe that he was legitimately interested in the theatrical arts? That your little rivalry sparked a new interest in him?”

Patrick pouted as his King Boo rode off the rainbow bridge, “Sharpy, I’m serious. Maybe I should quit the play entirely, let him have this one.”

Sharpy gave him a gentle nudge, “Hey, don’t give up little man. Jonny just has trouble coping with his affections towards you.”

Pat huffed in disbelief, “Affections? He hates me. Why else would he go through all this trouble?”

Sharp shrugged, “Maybe because it’s the only way to get your attention. Instead of doing something he’s interested in, like your dumb garbage sports, he’s actively participating in something you’re passionate about. His heart’s in the right place, his expression of it is just… wrong.”

Patrick, “Well that’s dumb. If he wanted to be friends, he could try talking to me like a normal person and not sabotaging my future.”

Sharpy, “Well Jonny is dumb; when it comes to you at least. And you avoid him, at all costs, don’t even give him the time of day. He doesn’t possess the social talents you’ve got, Kaner. He does not want to be ‘friends’ either.”

Patrick had trouble comprehending, “He has a watch to tell time.” He sighed long-sufferingly, “ I don’t wanna hate him Sharpy, he just always looks down at me like he’s my boss and I’m his underperforming worker. I don’t need that kind of negativity in my life.”

Sharpy looked as though he was really trying not to roll his eyes as he focused on the race, “Peeks, if you had eyes in the back of your head, you’d see some Disney worthy, fond gaze- I’m talkin’ Bambi in springtime, twitterpated shit. Good God, it’s like his soul oozes with his undying love for you. It pains me to witness.”

Patrick really wanted to leave this conversation and Sharpy knew it.

He finally looked away from the screen effectively giving up his lead. His gaze was an encouraging one, “Just don’t quit the show. He wouldn’t want that.” Sharpy smiled, “And who knows, eh? You’ve memorized every part, maybe someone would break a leg and give an upgrade.”

He tried to brush everything Sharpy related to him aside. Breaking some legs wasn’t such a bad idea.

Patrick activated his super star and danced his way across the finish line, he won.

  


~

  


It was announced the following week at rehearsal. The big show was in just two days.

A bombshell announcement.

“!Atención! I have terrible news!”

All gathered around.

“Lucy and her understudy both contracted mono at a frat party last Friday.”

“How are we going to do the show without a leading lady?” Asked Jonny.

Prof. Valdez smiled contentedly, “Luckily, I met an ingenue today who knows the role of Esmeralda Vela the candle maker and the play by heart. Everyone meet Trixie Harlow.”

Kaner came in singing and swaying his hips through the crowd in full drag, “ _This Cinderella Is lookin’ for a fella To tell her what she's sweeter than, Lookin’ for trouble, won't mind the trouble, If trouble looks like a man!”_

He even shimmied his fake tits.

Jonny was visibly stunned.

All of Pat’s soft, delicate, feminine features were accentuated. And his eyes were artfully framed by charcoal liner in such a way as to rival those of Liz Taylor. His naturally full lips were darkened and glossy; they looked luscious. His long curls were volumized and parted at the arch of his left brow. His broad shoulders were muted by a simple pastel blue cardigan, he adorned a tight matching pencil skirt. He also had on black heels and stockings, his legs looked killer.

If the way Jonny flushed full bodily at the sight of him was any indication, Patrick had successfully managed to shock and infuriate him just as Jonny did to him two weeks ago. Either that or he was sexually confused and begrudgingly aroused. Pat knew he wielded such power.

Patrick was capable of tricking everyone else at the drama department he was some new chick, maybe Jonathan didn't recognize him?

Jonny sounded irritable, “Trixie Harlow? What, was Monroe taken? I can't believe you sabotaged those girls.”

Nah, he knew.

Pat was not at all impressed by his attitude, “Harlow was the original blonde bombshell. And I, did no such thing. I merely invited them to our weekly festivities and proposed a game of spin-the-bottle where the bottle fatefully matched both girls to a recuperating Shawsy. So you see it was all serendipitous.”

Jon narrowed his eyes, “So you used magnets?”

Pat ignored him, “Get ready, Jon. I'm going to act circles around you out there.”

Hot determination flashed in his eyes, “We'll see. May the best actor win.”

Patrick moved slowly towards him, “You talkin’ to me?”

Jon caught on and raised his brow, very DeNiro-esque, “You talkin’ to me?”

Patrick stepped in closer, so close he had to tilt his head up “Are you talkin’ to me?”

Jonny looked down at him unwavered with his arms crossed, he licked his lips.

Jimmy, “Well, I don't see anyone else here!”

Patrick turned to the crew worker who was currently wiring the lights, “Stop it, Jimmy! You don't know what we're doing.”

 

~

 

It’s showtime!

The stage is set, the place is crowded, and the seats are filled. All of the Theta Chi brotherhood came out in full support much to Professor Valdez’s consternation and took up a whole section of seating. Jonny ordered the boys to behave themselves and dress in proper suit and tie attire because, “I don’t want you idiots embarrassing me and Kaner.”

So Sharpy, of course, convinced the guys to go all out and dress to the nines. The whole house rented tuxedos with coattails. Some of the guys even donned monocles, top hats, pocket watches, and walking canes. They were a vision of pomposity. Most of them knew how important this was for Patrick, Jonny was obviously in it for pride, so the boys agreed to applaud and wolf whistle only when appropriate.

None of the guys knew Patrick was in drag and under a false name though.

Saader knitted his brow at the program. Removing his monocle, he looked to Sharpy, “Sharpy, I can't find Kaner’s name in here. Who's he playing?”

Sharpy peeled his eyes from his newly obtained opera glasses, “Oh trust me Saader, Peeks is in there. He's pulling off probably one of the greatest performances this acting program has ever seen.”

Saader frowned still confused, “Well… who's he playing?”

Sharpy flashed a knowing grin, “Trixie Harlow.”

Saad blinked a few times, “Wait… what?”

The lights dimmed and all attention was brought to center stage.

 

_In the small port town of New Bern, North Carolina, a new arrival was settling in and causing commotion. Esmeralda Vela was just some fresh-faced candle maker looking to open shop in town. Story goes she was a bit of a wild child but that's about all anyone knows of her past._

_She gracefully sauntered into Edmund’s shop. All smiles, exuberating pure joy and an innocent heart._

_“Oh hi! I’m Esmeralda. I’d like some custom wood cases to place my candles in.” She seemed to sense Edmund’s energy, her face fell, “Are- are you the woodcarver?”_

_There's a pause._

_Edmund finally looked up to her and replied a curt, “Yes.”_

   
“He waits so long between words,” one audience member commented.

  
“Because he's that good,” another responded.

 

~

 

  
_“Why did I give my heart to a man who makes empty boxes? Everything you make is empty!”_

_Esmeralda was livid. Crying, yelling, knocking down various carvings in Edmund’s shop._

 

The audience ate it all up. Professor Valdez thought he fell in love. They cheered for Patrick’s theatrics and his ability to command attention with his stage presence alone, he didn't need a spotlight to catch your eyes. He showed great emotional range from an elegant grace to fiery barbarics.  

 Jonny felt that he was losing the crowd.

 

_“Everything I make is empty!” Edmund erupted, causing Esmeralda to flinch. He was quieter now, “It’s all empty.”_

_He picked up one of the carvings Esmeralda had discarded during her tirade. He examined his clever designs in the air, “Padded with velvet cushion for only the most precious of jewels.”_

_Esmeralda made a few tentative steps closer, “You ever thought maybe the reason the jewel chests are your best seller is because the maker himself holds an empty space?”_

_Edmund smiled gently and looked to her, “Maybe I’m just waiting for something beautiful to lock inside.”_

_Esmeralda bridged the gap between them and laid a palm on his arm. She returned his smile with an even softer one, “Perhaps a lavender rose candle will suffice in the meantime?”_

_Edmund’s eyes looked to where she was touching him. When he returned his eyes to hers, his gaze was yearning, hopeful, vulnerable even._

 

Patrick didn’t think Jonny had it in him to conjure up and project such emotion. Damn, Sebastian really was a good acting coach.

 

_He tucked a loose curl behind her ear, and breathed,“Perhaps.”_

 

The lights fade all around them, they exit the stage as the crew rushes to prepare for the next scene.

There's thunderous applause.

Jonny had to yell into Pat’s ear, “Listen to that! They adore my acting!”

Patrick smiled devilishly, “Not for long, because next is a love scene! You won't be able to kiss me!”

Utter horror befell Jonathan’s face.

Patrick cackled, “The play will go off the rails, and once and for all, it will be clear that I am the better actor!”

“Oh no.”

 

~

 

  
Jonny was visibly shaken. He kept fidgeting and looking for an escape like some paranoid animal.

 

_“You y-you don't know what it's like to lay hollow and bare,” Edmund stuttered. “We are worthless, the chest boxes and me, until we’re filled. Then, only then, are we truly worthwhile.”_

_“I’m afraid I know all too well, Eddie,” Esmeralda was holding back, but not for long. She was tired of waiting for Edmund. “All this talk of waiting for a jewel,” her voice steadily rose, here come the tears. “Can’t I be that jewel? I’m an emerald for crying out loud!” She slammed the small dining table, they were at a restaurant._

_Edmund yelled out of fear more than anything, “No! No, no one will be enough.”_

_“Stubborn man! Aren’t I worth a try? Can’t you just let me in!?” By now she was practically leaning over the table, Edmund sat back in his chair basically shielding himself._

 

A moment passed. Just as Patrick was gonna smirk triumphantly-

 

_Eddie reached over the table and grabbed her face for a deep, languid kiss.“Hmph!” Esmeralda was shocked at the sudden rush of sensations flooding within her._

_They broke apart, flushed and swollen lipped. She saw tears threatening to shed in Edmund’s eyes._

 

The crowd cheered and whistled.

Patrick wasn't going to let him have this.

“You call that acting? This is acting!”

 

_Esmeralda climbed over the table and crushed their mouths together, gripping Edmund’s hair and biting his lips. Eddie groaned when she licked his mouth causing a surge of heat to coil deep within her bodice._

 

The audience collectively gasped.

 

_They broke apart once more, panting with thirst. Oh, how she yearned for his scorching touch! She wished to kiss him again; for a reunion of their celestial beings._

 

Jon’s eyes were ink black and feral, he looked unhinged, “That's nothing!”

 

_Eddie yanked Esmeralda onto his lap, one hand gripping her ass, the other gripping her curls and molded their mouths together. He untangled his hand from her hair and clasped her jaw to pry her mouth open allowing for his tongue violently force its way down Esmeralda's mouth. This time, it was a breathy moan that had escaped her._

_Esmeralda kissed back with vigor after an initial wave of shock and grinded down Eddie’s obvious hard-on. Edmund choked. Gaining confidence, Esmeralda decided to take things further and rip Eddie’s shirt open. He breathed heavily through his nostrils fearing a pathetic noise would break free. She pecked along his jawline and mouthed her way down his neck and collarbone to eventually swirl her tongue and lightly tease her teeth at the dark nubs of his nipples. He whimpered as if he were wounded._

 

Patrick swallowed Jon’s moans after uniting their mouths again and smiled victoriously against his lips.

 

_Eddie huffed angrily and pulled away. Esmeralda was confused and didn't know what he was up to until he stood and bent her over the table. He forcefully gripped her at the hips and pressed forward until she felt his hard length right up against her rear. She gripped the tablecloth for purchase. Esmeralda's eyes widened._

_She gasped, “Oh, good Lord.”_

 

Jonny leaned in until they were chest to back. He breathed heavily into Pat’s ear, “I'm gonna act the crap out of you.”

The display that followed would forever scar the hearts and minds of the audience.

 

~

 

The show was shut down. In retrospect, Prof. Valdez should have drawn the curtains as soon as articles of clothing were ripped off. The audience had ceased gasping by then, they were stunned to silence. Paralyzed by shock, they couldn't find it in them to look away.

Mrs. Bucknell raved about the performances she was treated to, “Bravo! I have never felt such enthrallment. Oh, what a lovely show. Jonathan was so studly, and that Trixie Harlow, such a delight. Those two on stage make quite a dynamic, I mean the chemistry they both shared.”

She was escorted out the theatre by Professor Valdez. Sarah had also attended, she obediently followed her mother not knowing what to say or think.

Valdez flatly agreed with her, “Yes, they're quite the pair.”

“You have a couple of rising stars in your hands, hmm?” She elbowed him giddily.

He sighed, “Ah, yes. I suppose. No one will certainly forget this show, that is for sure.”

Bucknell laughed, “Oh Pablo, you must have me back. I'll pay for their bail, but I must be front row at the next show.”

Professor Valdez shut his eyes, nods tiredly, and hopes this isn't what the campus will remember him for. I mean, his two stars were being arrested.

 

“Public indecency?! We weren't really doing it! We were just acting!” Patrick explained as he struggled into handcuffs. He and Jonny were being dragged into the squad car.

“Yeah, whatever kid. Sorry about your father, my brother got dumb nerve pain that makes him neglect his children too,” the officer shoving him into the squad car related.

“That was a freaking Humira commercial! My real dad's just fine, he was in the third row!”

Once they were seated in the back, Jonny turned practically beaming to Patrick, “You know why they thought we were having sex? Because our acting was that damn good.”

Patrick protested, “No, because your acting was that damn good.”

Jonny was offended that Patrick would even dare belittle himself, “No, you. You were a very generous scene partner.”

“Hey, I was just feeding off your amazing energy,” Patrick insisted.

A moment passed between them as their eyes locked onto each other in the comfortable silence.

Jon spoke first, “You know Pat, I never got why you loved performing so much, but I get it now.” He finished though he seemed to have more to say, he bit his lip looking expectantly towards Pat.

“Yeah?” He wanted him to continue.

“Yeah! I mean, connecting with the audience, becoming in sync mentally and emotionally. It’s an amazing feeling.”

Pat’s faced bursted with elation, “I’ve always felt that way! It’s overwhelming almost, isn’t it? But it’s helpful in big emotional climaxes- is that how you got yourself to cry during the first kiss?”

Jonny’s expression fell a little, “Um, yeah.” He looked to the ground, his ears were red, “I figured it was a big moment for Edmund, to finally accept that he loves Esmeralda and that he shouldn’t be afraid to let her in.”

Patrick grinned fondly, “Always knew you were a sap.”

Jonny’s head snapped up and he smiled wide.

The two went back and forth complimenting each other's performances and discussed writing a play themselves, one a little less melodramatic, that they could both star in.

 

The streets cleared up from the crowds of people. Saader and Sharpy stood on the sidewalk just outside the ticket booth and watched their friends ride off to jail.

“I- I don't get it. They're friends now?” Saader looked to Sharp.

“Eh, maybe. Maybe even more.”

Sharpy steadied his monocle and removed his top hat. From his hat, he pulled out a cigar and lit it. “Told ya,” he placed the cigar between his lips, “they just needed to fuck.”

He took a long drag before offering to Saad. Brandon shook his head, “No thanks, I don't do tobacco.”

He blew the smoke at his face, “It's not tobacco.”

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> They don't really fuck, sorry. And we left Jonny and Pat a bit ambiguous there.
> 
> "Ugh, it could've been so much more!" She cried.


End file.
